Mort goes down the Rabbit Hole, um, Thing
by welovedarcy
Summary: An equally madcap and insane sequel to Mort Has Visitors, in which Mort is once again screwed up by a psycho Narrator and an array of intruders. Read and Review! Read MHV first or this may not make sense, not that it really does anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Do not own. YOU MUST HAVE READ MORT HAS VISIOTRS FIRST! if you want. please don't hit me...

Mort was wandering in the park, arguing with the narrator. He was quite content. Just a walking' and a swaying', thinking about his corn, not noticing the odd looks he was receiving from protective mothers or the audience who want to know where the HELL this park came from…the usual.

Mort: YOU LIIIIIIIIE!  
Narrator: Oh come on, all I did was say I did not love Him…

Mort: That's another issue. But for now, you said I was content!

Fan Girls: He is nay content! HE is nay content?

Audience: What is with the "nays"?

Fan Girls: He is sophisticated and there for we-eth say nayeth. For lo, yonder is a clothes store, let us entereth it….

Narrator: Had to get rid of them SOMEHOW….anyway, why are you um, "nay" content my dear little Mort, who be but a puppet of my keyboard…

Mort: I'll ignore some of the larger words in that sentence. But I am not happy since he-who-destroyed-my-just-about-happy-home still lives. HE LIVES! He walks this earth! He should at least have the decency to limp!

Narrator: Great. Go all psycho on such a nice day. Anyway, it's not like Ted destroyed your home…it WAS your wife who fu-

Audience backs away andstart taking down glass bottles from saloon shelf...

Narrator: Ahem. Ted ruined your 'happy' home. Just breathe Mort…

Mort: Thanks. I always forget about the whole breathing thing. Well, what am I to do about it? You all have time to kill? Or Ted to kill…heheheheheheh. Muhahahaha. MUHAHAHAH-

Narrator: That's enough Mort!  
Mort: Aaaaw…being evil is fun, stupid cow…

Audience: Narrator- violence is not the answer! Don't do it!

Narrator: Oh what do you care?

Fan Girls: Ahem. WE care. And that is "WE" as in "Around a million mort mad girls with rich fathers and have all sworn to protect Him"

Audience: Yeah. That's a little to smart for them to realise by themselves, they may have had some outside help…

All heads turned just in time to see a guilty white rabbit jumping into a little hole…

Mort: That would not be a good idea. NOT A GOOD IDEA! Narra-where has she gone?

Audience: Oh god…

Distant voice of narrator: Hey mort! Teeeed is doooown heeeere! And a variety of sharp objects! Hard decision!

Audience: Well, there goes Mort. The narrator is so damn evil and surprisingly persuasive. The fan girls have gone too. It is left to us to remain dignity around here…

Narrator: Come now or I shall kick your figurative butts…

Audience: SIR YES SIR!

And with all down the little rabbit hole (how did they fit? No, really? Do rabbits just MAKE holes so people can jump into them to fulfil their psychotic fantasies of killing a guy named Ted?) The journey of Mort, an evil whore so ironically called "Narrator", a VERY annoying audience, fifty crazed anorexics and an evil sheep who had hopped along for the ride. Okay, there is no evil sheep. But who knows what they could find down there? It could be dangerous! And no one brought any spare healthy snack or jumpers! Or a first aid kit! They are going to die!

Continued after the break….


	2. Little Blue Thang

Mort was rather enjoying this. He twirled around…

Mort: Hey! I am soooo NOT twirling! It's just a nice dress…

For lo, Mort was wearing a very attractive, if a little out of date, blue number. Aprons being worn as "innocent little girl" this season.

The audience just shook their heads sadly; the fan girls (joined by a number of boys with bad eyesight) were hyperventilating.

The Narrator (who was wearing a sexier blue dress. Well, more like…a leather blue tight thing. Or indeed, "thang") was trying to work out which door to go through. She would not tolerate dealing with the mushroom crap and ended up dragging the audience through a mud wall-like-thing.

Mort: Aaaw, you ripped my dress!

Narrator: Do nay give a fuck my dear little Mort…

Fan Girls: Ahem

The Narrator remembers that the slightly more unattractive girls kept machine guns under their coats. Admittedly they were pink, but would hurt all the same.

Narrator: I will buy you a new one…

Fan Girls: From Victoria Secrets?

The Narrator glares at them. Why haven't they melted yet she wonders? That would have worked in a cartoon! Life is not fair!

Fan Girls: Come on, do you have any idea how we suffer from pining with unrequited love? Aren't you impressed we used that phrase? You know you want to see His leeeeegs…Mort's beautiful leeeeeeeeeeegs….

The Narrator stared into the distance. Not like there was enough space in the tunnel for there to be a distance to stare into, but hey…work with me people.

The Narrator had left Matthew Whatever Wilkins (Mort's psychiatrist. Do none of you remember Him? Oh, you break my heart. If it is still there. Give me a few minutes to see if I'm alive) at a sleazy bar somewhere, enthusiastically singing karaoke. Even now the Narrator cries at the thought of Him getting beaten up by Elvis enthusiasts…

Narrator: WHY? Why, I never got to tell Him how I dream of kissing His fingertips and how safe I feel when He is protecting me from wild chipmunks! WHY? Why did I not donate Him my lungs when I had the chance? GOD HAS NO MERCY! Still. Am not buying Mort saucy lingerie. I'm saving up my money to buy myself some sexy, sexy converses.

Fan Girls: Please…please?

Audience: And um, stop drooling please

The fan girls pleading and the Narrators yearning for an unattractive Welsh psychiatrist, who incidentally also wore converses, when they were interrupted by Mort, who had suddenly had a thought.

Mort: Hey! I thought you said Ted was here!

Audience: Ah, we were trying to remember what disgraceful lie you told Him to get down here…why are we here anyway?

Narrator: To seek…REVNGE!

They all give her a look…

Narrator: Okay, okay…to seek…PEANUT BUTTER! The most confused substance this world has ever known! Is it some kind of pea, is it butter? DOES IT CONTAIN NUTS?

Mort: Riiiiiight….Narrator, I think peanut butter contains nuts.

Narrator: You never know. Just like you never can tell when someone you really love is going to keel over and die because He smokes!

The Narrator is really upset by this time. She had always regretted not donating her lungs to Matthew who did actually need them more than she did. Then she realises that Matthew never took out the trash when she asked Him to…

Narrator: BASTARD!

Audience: Yes, Narrator, yes…

Narrator: Okay, let us go kick the shit out of Ted!

And yea all were joined in the unity and brotherhood that only the promise of an ass kicking can bring. Around Mort's forehead a bandana appeared out of nowhere, and the fan girls mouths watered as Mort's muscles rippled…

"Where the fuck did those muscles come from!"

Fan Girls: Who really cares?

The audience glared at the Narrator…

Narrator: What? Okay, okay, sorry. But wouldn't it be interesting to see what happens if you combine Die Hard with Alice in Wonderland and Secret Window? Really?

The audience responded by chucking many an unattractive fake designer shoe at the author. Who soon got the point and shut up.

"So, we go in there and WE TIE THE BASTARD UP!"

Audience: Isn't it "String him up?"

Narrator: Calling to audience! Can you help Mort and the "Gang" find a funky and obscure phrase for "let's hang him"? Please review with any randomness you may have!

Audience: You have no shame narrator.

"Maybe we should use another clichéd phrase…"LET'S SMOKE THEM OUT!"

Narrator: Nah- I don't think it works. For a start- we are down a rabbit hole. And my deodorant says I can't go near flames or smoke while wearing it…

Audience: All pyromaniacs among us bow your heads in sympathy

Narrator: Thank ye kindly. For lo, on this day we have all acted like the true assholes we are and I'm proud of you fro it…

"Truly touching narrator. Truly. So lets get up and dance! Round, round I get around…"

Narrator: Not in that dress Mort…Mort? Are you wearing underwear?

"Oh come on! IS IT REALLY NECESSARY?"

Fan Girls: Not for him anyway…

Review- tell me what you thought. Give me your obscure phrases. Send me money to buy converses. And any spare lungs if you have any round the place…


	3. A little break

DISCLAIMER: Do nay own. "To cuddly death" is nay my phrase. All respect should go to Zoë.

Mort was sipping his coffee. What was this sinister person so ironically called the "Narrator" doing to him? He was just an innocent psychopath and she had to drag him around and turn him into some kind of desperate woman's underwear wearing corn freak. Well, he IS but that is not really the point.

"Why Maria my darling…why?"

Audience: Who is Maria?

"My beautiful fish who keeps me company! Do you not know anything about me and my life?"

Fan Girls: WE DOOOOO! WE DO MORT! Love us please…

Audience: Mort- you don't have a fish.

Fan Girls: He can if he wants to!

Mort sighed heavily. They were only here to take a break before he was dragged back into the latest adventure that sick and twisted narrator was writing. Where was she anyway? Probably trying to find Matthew Wilkins. Pathetic really, depending on some puny little thing to give your life meaning…

Audience: Like corn?

"NO! NOT LIKE CORN! Corn is a thing of beauty, of light and love! And creamy, butter yellowness…."

Mort spilled his coffee in his anger. Who dare insult the corn? Mort was a lonely man. Not many people (He did not consider the fan girls true people) would talk to him after the whole murder rampage thing.

"COME ON! IT WAS ONLY ONE RAMPAGE! I DIDNT EVEN USE A GUN!"

Audience: Hmm...Maybe he should spill all to a chat show host...

Sexy Chat show Host: Like...MOI? The oh so sexy, divine, irritable and damn evil Anthony?

Audience: Who the hell ever heard of a chat show host named Anthony?

Anthony's Fan Girls: HEY! DIE!

And lo, while the audience was being beaten to cuddly death by Anthony's Fan Girls, Mort was being interviewed…

Anthony: So…Mort. Or to use your full name…MORTIMER PHILLIPS BLEEZLEBUB RAINEY OF THE LAND OF OZ THE THIRD! But that's a little long? Can I just call you "psycho dude" to save time?

"Feel just about free"

Anthony: Thanks. So, psycho dude, how does it feel to be paraded across the internet in women's underwear?

"Well, the underwear itself is actually quite liberating. It makes me feel good and is a bit of a hit with the lay-deeeeeeeees….

Anthony: Only I may say "lay-deeeeeees" with an attractive wink! BE CRUSHED IN HELL, buddy…moving right along. With what household item would you kill the narrator? The narrator would like to remind you at this point that you only exist because she wishes it so and that she can arrange underwear to be delivered to you house at any time…

"Oh, hard one. I've wished to kill her so many times over the years…"

In the depths of a karaoke bar in Arizona, the narrator chokes on a martini…

"That you know, it's hard to choose JUST the ONE…"

Anthony: Mmm, mmm…I know how you feel. When she dumped me after sex I personally favoured the good ol' potato masher…

By this point the narrator is running out of the bar, assuring Matthew she would never sleep with someone called Anthony (except Anthony Kiedis. All hail Kiedis)…

"Yeah. Me too. She told me I was a lousy lover then left me while I was pregnant with our third child to run away with a male stripper…

Anthony: Um, that's great Mort. Now, what do you have to say about…corn?

"Oh, corn. Sweet corn. I named my first born "Corn"…

Anthony: Ah, Corn Rainey. A fine name for a fine man, now planning world domination with giant super lice…

"I'm so proud of my little um, boy/robot thing. Look- I would just like to say that im really a nice guy. I've had braces just like you, I smoke, I do drugs, I have sex in barns and cheated on my wife then get really psycho when she cheats on me…

Anthony: A true America. Who did you cheat on that bitch of yours, Amy, on? Could you possibly tell Amy that the money I owe her for last night is in the mail?

"I cheated on my wife with…with…HILLARY CLINTON!

All gasp in shock and horror. Bill Clinton takes his cue to have another couple of rounds with a hooker since he is so upset…

"Yes, I know. She just came round one night, all soaked by the rain and I got out some beer and…well, the rest of that night is all a little hazy. But nine months later and BAM! Little Chelsea Clinton is born!

Anthony: Shocking news! Chelsea is really the result of an affair between her mother and a fictional character! I gotta get me to the Clinton's house! Kiss my ass little psycho dude, I'm outta here!

"Gladly. What a nice man."

And Mort proceeded to drink his coffee. He hoped his hair had looked all right on air.

Audience: Um Mort…

"Shit. There comes the Narrator. AND WHY COULDN'T ANY OF YOU TOLD ME I HAD MY FLIES UNDONE ALL THIS TIME!"

PLEASE NOTE: I mean no disrespect to any of the Clintons. Except maybe Bill. He never returned my calls!


End file.
